


the hope that warbles in my fluttering breast

by tomlinvelvet



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Babies, Blood, Body Worship, Bottom Louis, Breastfeeding, Cat/Human Hybrids, Fluff, Human Harry, Love, M/M, Married Couple, Mpreg, Mpreg Louis, Pain, Pregnancy, cat hybrid louis, home birth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-13
Updated: 2020-04-13
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:40:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23411791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tomlinvelvet/pseuds/tomlinvelvet
Summary: "I don't feel good," Louis admitted, eyes watering. Harry rounded the table to sit next to Louis, worry eating at his guts."It's alright, we've got everything we need. We will be fine."But Louis shook his head."No, it's not that. I don't feel well."Harry bit his bottom lip, hard. "The babies?""No, they're not moving, I just... I don't know, something is wrong. I think I need to lay down, alright?"The winter growls loud and mean outside as Harry Styles comes home to his precious Louis.
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson
Comments: 32
Kudos: 233





	the hope that warbles in my fluttering breast

**Author's Note:**

> **title is from Charles Baudelaire, poem 'L'Âme du vin': l'espoir qui gazouille en mon sein palpitant. Translation: the hope that warble in my fluttering breast. WARNING: Louis is giving birth at home and I will describe it so beware! i'm making some stuff up from my web-quest on human/cat birth because obv mpreg is complicated and i still want it to be as realistic as possible so... yeah! also i'm french so i hope my english is alright... and idk anything about america so i literally made up the landscape... heh enjoy tho! <3**
> 
> tumblr: [tomlinvelvetfics](https://tomlinvelvetfics.tumblr.com/)

[the hope that warbles in my fluttering breast — fic post.](https://tomlinvelvetfics.tumblr.com/post/621088517480644608/the-hope-that-warbles-in-my-fluttering-breast-by)

There, against the window, was stuck millions of snowflakes, their see-through quality no more as they huddled together, pushed against hard surfaces by the merciless wind. Harry gripped the wheel of his car tighter, opening his eyes as wide as possible, wanting to see the road properly. The winter was making its presence known, stripping the trees naked, leaving the hard cement slippery, making dead leaves fall from the heavens above until they clogged up drainpipes. It was cold too. And not the kind of cold that would leave you with a sweater and a hoodie, pleasant enough to provide a much needed blast of chill breeze that would ruffle your hair and make you serene. The cold was nothing like this. It was a bone-freezing kind-of cold, the icy air biting at your skin and rendering the muscles of your face numb.

Harry should probably check the weather forecast. Just to be sure. But he also wanted to get to his warm house and see his beautiful husband. It made him uneasy to be away from Louis, made his skin itchy and his mood grumpy. He wanted to be home.

The countryside of West Virginia was a blur around him, the fog eating away the usual vibrant colours of the green fields and the forest. He sped up, brain focusing on the purring of the engine, expression barely flinching as a car drove in the opposite direction of him, its headlights too intense and almost on its way to making Harry's eyes water.

 _Turn them down asshole,_ he internally groaned, but his irritation slowly dissipated as he realized he was getting closer and closer to his abode. The trees grew more abundant and the road became muddier, the wet goo making bizarre noises under the wheels of his SUV. There weren't many houses in that area as people tended to prefer the city centre, but when Louis and he bought the rustic two-story cottage deep into the woods, they did it with their minds filled with polaroids of sunrises casting their orange glows through their bedroom windows, waking them up slowly but surely. It was with the idea that everyday they would get to breathe the fresh, unpolluted air of Pine Grove, and take walks as the dusk settled and the moonlight filtered through the thick canopy of the crowd of trees cocooning them for miles on end.

They didn't regret being so far away from everything. This was their safe haven.

He parked next to a thick trunk of tree which he used to cut pieces of woods. His splitting maul was waiting on the ground, not far away from his axe. He stepped out and gritted his teeth as the icy breathe of the wind slapped him straight in the face. He brought his gloved hands to his face and furiously rubbed, hoping to warm the skin up. He couldn't even feel his nose anymore. _Great,_ he thought sarcastically. Sighing, he rounded the huge vehicle and took out of the boot heavy bags which were filled to the brim with groceries. With the cold, his muscles were aching more than usual but he ignored the pain and carried the bags to the front door, pushing it open with his elbow and hip, grunting as he lined them up against the wall of the hallway.

"Kitten, I'm home!" he said loudly, loud enough for his voice to be heard even if Louis was upstairs, on their bed, rubbing soothing cream on his round belly. He waited a few seconds before the unmistakable sound of bare feet hitting the wooden ground was heard. He smiled when naked legs appeared as they descended the stairs, and he felt himself relax as Louis' glorious figure finally reached the last step. From where he stood, he could admire his husband.

Whenever he was gone for a few hours and came back, seeing Louis was like seeing him for the first time. It was magical, ethereal, love-at-first-sight worthy. He felt it until the very tips of his toes, that electric current that went through him whenever he saw the wedding ring on Louis' finger, and the way it caught the outdoor light in a way that made it shine. They met six years ago, but even after all this time he fell in love with Louis all over again.

It was much warmer inside, the electric heaters efficient in their purposes. He unfolded the scarf which was wrapped around his neck, eyes never leaving Louis. Louis was wearing an oversized grey turtleneck jumper which reached his mid-thighs, and short white socks that left most of his dainty ankles out. His tail, long and fluffy and matching his chestnut hair was moving elegantly to the rhythm of a silent melody, and Harry was mesmerised. Louis made his way to him and stood on his tiptoes to give him a sweet kiss. Harry sighed, content, and deepened the kiss, allowing his still-gloved hands to grab Louis' small waist. He hugged Louis, pushing the hybrid's body flush against his until not a single space remained. Louis mewled in the kiss, his arms going around Harry's neck, bringing them even closer, as if it were possible.

Louis' heavily pregnant belly made the hug awkward, but Harry's arms were long enough and he pushed his nose in Louis' neck, breathing in the delicious fragrance of coconut soap.

"Hi," Louis said softly and he was so close that Harry could see every detail of his face, such as the light freckles dusting his nose and cheeks, the glimmering colourless gloss on his rosy lips, or the specks of gold in his powder grey coloured irises. He was stunning. "Glad you're back. The weather is getting worse and worse."

Louis pouted and Harry took notice of the worry that lingered in the hybrid's eyes.

"Hey, love, I'm fine. The winter is settling in, hopefully it'll calm down in the following hours."

Louis nodded, before peaking down at the bags and smiling softly when he noticed his favourite snacks. He snatched a chocolate bar and ripped the paper apart, stuffing his mouth as Harry put all the bags in the kitchen. He went to sort them out, putting the cold aliments in the fridge and freezer, stowing away the vegetables and biscuits. He turned around and saw Louis putting the teabags in the appointed tea box, which was huge enough for sixty teabags and completely made out of wood. Harry had built it three years ago as a birthday present and Louis had never stopped using it. The delicious aroma of black tea clung to the box so that whenever it was opened, the scent waltzed in the air and tickled their nostrils pleasantly. Flowers were carved on the box and gold paint enhanced them. Louis had been so delighted that he had cried happy tears in Harry's arms.

Harry loved thinking back to those memories.

"How are you feeling?" He asked once he had tidied the whole kitchen, joining Louis on the couch. Instantly, Louis climbed on his lap, as graceful as a cat, his back to Harry's chest. Harry slid his hands under Louis' jumper and allowed his fingers to spread on Louis' nine-months pregnant belly, moving his thumbs over the warm skin. Louis purred and Harry buried his nose where Louis' hair met one of his cat ears, relishing in the softness here. Louis smelt like their shared anti-dandruff lime shampoo and something that was perfectly him and nobody else. He smelt comforting and Harry felt his tense shoulders drop completely. It was like magic.

"The babies were kicking for a while, but they've calmed down. Maybe they sensed your presence," Louis teased, his own hands coming up on top of Harry's, bunching the bottom of his jumper on his swollen chest. Harry knew Louis' nipples were sensitive and he kissed Louis' temples when the hybrid hissed as the soft fabric rubbed against the tiny rose buds. 

"Can I do something for you? Do you need anything?" Harry wondered, voice gone low and soft. Louis shook his head and leaned even more against Harry.

"No, just you. You were gone for three hours, I want you with me now."

Louis turned his head and kissed Harry's chin, gently licking down his throat and nuzzling the stubble on Harry's jaw. He giggled as the short hair tickled the tip of his nose and the thin skin of his lips and the sound made Harry smile and plucker up his lips, silently asking for another kiss. Louis obliged enthusiastically, sighing against Harry's mouth, his own lips falling open as Harry asked entry with his tongue.

It was perfect and Harry wanted to stay there forever.

.✫*ﾟ

Harry frowned at the window, his eyes glaring at the huge clouds in the sky. They were still far away, but they made him worry. He put down the knife he had been using to slice several carrots then walked out of the kitchen. Dinner could wait.

"Lou, I'm going to chop up some woods, I'll be back!"

He knew his voice was loud enough to boom through the whole house, so he made his way to the door, putting on two sweaters, his coat, a beanie and a scarf. He pulled on his combat boots and stepped on the threshold. He frowned as the cold, now merciless, made him take a step back. _Fucking hell._ He sighed, annoyed. He was afraid the electricity would stop in the middle of the night and he needed to bring back woods in case they would need to use the fireplace. He marched to the small wooden cabin a few meters away from the house. It was where he kept his tools and the stock of woods. He took a few large pieces and walked to his little wood-cutting station.

He put a piece of wood on the huge tree trunk and grabbed his splitting maul from the ground. He was glad he didn't put his gloves on even though he almost couldn't feel his fingers anymore. It made it easier to grab the maul. He wouldn't want for his hand to slip and end up missing an arm. Taking a deep breathe, he brought down the maul, the tool splitting in two the piece of wood. He repeated the action ten more times, until a satisfactory pile of thin segments of wood was waiting for him. He picked it up, groaning under the heaviness, and hurried back to the door. He wanted to get out of the cold and stay inside, close to Louis. He threw the woods on the ground, next to the stone fireplace. He grabbed the few pieces which had felt down in the hallway then took off his winter clothes, eager to go back to cooking. 

He was lucky that Louis wasn't difficult when it came to food. There were, as expected, some odd cravings here and there, resulting in Harry having to prepare pickles with peanut butter at one in the morning, or having to change every savon de Marseille they owned for liquid soap because the coloured cubes looked particularly appetising to Louis. Overall though, Louis ate anything Harry did. Which was convenient since Harry loved doing the cooking. That way, he could make sure Louis had the right amount of proteins, carbohydrate and vitamins. 

He cut in half the thick mushroom omelet, putting one half in Louis' plate, the other in his own. He added cooked vegetables on the side with several pieces of buckwheat bread. 

Just as he put the plates and glasses down on the table, Louis entered the living room. 

"Smells amazing, Haz," he said gently, sitting down at the thick wooden table, one hand under his belly. Harry grabbed apple juice and a bottle of water, setting them down before taking a seat himself, in front of Louis. They both started to eat, Louis complimenting Harry as often as he can, which in turn made Harry reach out for Louis' unoccupied hand.

"The weather is not looking good," Louis frowned. "Maybe we should check out the weather forecast? I didn't think of it earlier but."

He shrugged and Harry instantly stood up to turn on the radio. He spent a few seconds catching the right frequency. The monotonous voice of a man suddenly filled the silence and they both listened to it with furrowed brows. For ten minutes, the new presenter talked about what happened on the territory. A bus hit a car. Several cold-blooded murders. A teenager, shot by his best friend, died at the hospital. Bad news after bad news were heard, which made Harry tense.

Louis squeezed his hand and he knew the hybrid was feeling the same. 

"I don't feel good," Louis admitted, eyes watering. Harry rounded the table to sit next to Louis, worry eating at his guts.

"It's alright, we've got everything we need. We will be fine."

But Louis shook his head.

"No, it's not that. I don't feel well."

Harry bit his bottom lip, hard. "The babies?"

"No, they're not moving, I just... I don't know, something is wrong. I think I need to lay down, alright?"

Harry made to get up but Louis put a hand on his chest, shaking his head. "No, you stay here to listen to the forecast, alright? Don't worry. It'll pass."

Louis bent down and kissed Harry's forehead.

"Ok, alright. I'll join you in a few, as soon as the forecast is over."

Harry watched Louis go, something heavy twisting his guts, but he listened to the hybrid and focused back on the radio, mind racing. He wasn't gullible; he knew that something was wrong with the weather. It was too windy, too cold, too foggy. Finally, the tell-tale music of the daily forecast began. He absently registered the meteorologist's greetings, and ignored the offhand comments about the obvious drop in temperatures.

"A blizzard should hit Pine Grove tomorrow, most likely in the evening. Be safe, stock up on woods. By the look of it, the snow storm should last at least three full hours."

 _Fuck sake._ Harry looked up at the heavens above, sending a prayer to whoever was listening. He was more than glad that he had decided to do groceries early in the morning, which meant they didn't have to worry about running out of food. He had bought enough to last them two weeks. But a blizzard was always worrisome. He should go out and check that nothing outside might break. He cleaned the table, put the plates in the washing machine then made his way up the wooden stair.

The heaters were warming up the whole house pleasantly, and he pushed open the door of their bedroom, noticing that the main light was off and only the little lamp next to their bed was on, bathing the room in an orangish glow. He slowly went to the bed where he found Louis, sound asleep, half of his body under their thick quilt. Harry felt fondness rush through his heart. He loved Louis so much. They went through ever kind of ordeals together, supporting one another through thick and thin. He bent down to kiss Louis' forehead softly, allowing his lips to linger a few seconds too long. 

He figured that, while Louis was asleep, he could do the round of the house. He dressed up, this time slipping his fingers in his gloves. When he stepped out, he was ready. His thermal winter mask was covering the bottom of his face, keeping his nose and lips warm. The weather hadn't changed, but in the horizon the angry clouds could still be seen. All around the house, the trees were deprived of their usual green coat of leaves and even their trunks had lost their usual mud brown colour. For some, such a sight would be unattractive, but Harry liked it. Even though he didn't enjoy the cold particularly. 

The house was built in 1975 but ever since they had renovated it, it looked brand new. He was convinced that the roof wouldn't go flying in case the wind blew strong, or that the walls wouldn't crumble down as it fought against the harsh anger of the sky. He put the few tools he left outside in the little cabin. He had built it himself a year ago, when he had too much time on his hands and found a sudden passion for bricolage. Since he was little, crafting was his favourite thing to do, but usually he created little things that would often end up disregarded in a box full of random things. But then, as the years went by, he moved on to building up actual furnitures. A cabin to work was the best option, where he could stow away his heavy tools and do whatever he wanted without bothering Louis. 

He looked at it with furrowed eyebrows. He hoped it would survive the snow storm. 

He threw one last look at the sky before turning around and walking back inside. 

.✫*ﾟ

Summer '11 was still freshly inked in Harry's mind. The sweet smell of salty water, the feeling of fine sand between sun-kissed toes, the lingering taste of grape popsicles... he could remember them all. He could never forget the way the faraway mountains contrasted with the vast pool of water which stretched way beyond the eyes could see, and for some reasons the little, tropical market following the curve of the soil that made up Jamaica was still flashing its vibrant colours behind his eyelids. Their cosy rented cottage was steps away from the reef-lined beach and the huge rainforest.

But Jamaica had been all the more magical as he got to wake up for the first time as a husband next to Louis.

Picking Jamaica as their honeymoon had been an easy choice; it was so different from the United States. It was a little piece of heaven in the Caribbean sea, far enough away from everything to give them the impression of being the only beings on the whole planet.

He was in the middle of kissing Louis' soft belly, their bodies warm under the white linen quilt, when he was startled awake. His eyes flew open, and he furrowed his eyebrows. The bedroom was bathing in darkness, except for a single ray of orange light that filtered through the gap of the in-between open door. He slowly sat up and extended one hand towards the other side of the bed, fingers being met with cool sheet.

He wasn't surprised. It wasn't the first time he woke up to an empty bed, just to find Louis in the kitchen snacking, or reading, or listening to music. Regardless of how many times it happened, if he awoke, he always joined Louis. He put on his slippers and walked out of the bedroom, squinting as the light hurt his eyes for a few hot seconds. He went down the stair, hand tight around the hand rail. It wouldn't be the first time he slipped and fell down the steps.

Ghost-like footsteps could be heard, meaning that Louis was either barefoot or wearing thick socks. The clock mounted on the wall read four and a half in the morning, the seconds ticking down like water drops during a storm. It wasn't that bad, then. At least, it wasn't one in the morning. Harry allowed himself to stretch his sore muscles before stepping into the living room, taking in the scene in front of him like one would look at a flying elephant. 

There were clothes absolutely everywhere. Or, more precisely, a mix of _his_ clothes and Louis', left all over the floor. The couches were still where they usually were, but the coffee table had been pushed against the wall so that only the wool rug they got as a gift from Harry's grandmother on Christmas remained. Harry could tell it was still there because a tiny bit of it stuck out of the enormous pile of clothes over it. And amid the mess was seated Louis, feet gently tucked under his bottom, tail moving left to right calmly. Harry was so starstruck by the sight that he didn't say anything for a while, and Louis, too focused on the task at hand, which consisted of sorting through the clothes and placing them together following a well-thought-out strategy that Harry still hadn't figured yet, hadn't even heard him enter the room.

The fire trapped within the fireplace cracked, sending bright ripe-cantaloupe coloured sparks into the air, disappearing as quickly as they came.

"Honey?" Harry said uncertainly, taking a tentative step towards the hybrid. Louis looked up, big round eyes looking at him, hands hovering over a thick black hoodie that belonged to Harry. He tilted his head, as if asking Harry to go on, and when Harry walked even closer, Louis frowned and pursed his lips.

Harry froze.

_Oh, fuck._

Louis was so obviously nesting, and Harry didn't know how to feel about it. Because hybrids were part-cat, they nested at the end of their pregnancy because they knew their babies were coming and they wanted to build a safe, welcoming place for them. But the thing was, every hybrid was different from one another. Some would do a nest two hours before going into labor, others a week before the important moment. They knew the baby was due for the end of the week, but Harry also knew from past experiences that accidental labours were possible. Which meant that either Louis was preparing the nest four days before the birth of the babies, like it was planned, or Louis was doing a nest because he was about to go into labour in a few hours.

Harry felt himself starting to sweat. 

"Honey," he tried again, this time walking straight up to Louis, stopping right outside where the half-finished nest began. "Louis, please, look at me."

Finally, Louis put his eyes back on Harry. "Harry?"

Louis sounded spaced out, as if his body were here but not quite his mind, and that scared Harry. He knew a great amount of things on hybrids. Back to when they were just dating, he had wanted for Louis to be comfortable around him; that meant learning as many things as possible about hybrids. He had bought a book about hybrid pregnancy a few months back and had started reading it, but he still wasn't done with the chapter that dealt with nesting behaviours. Therefore, he couldn't tell whether the faraway look in Louis' eyes was normal or not.

What he knew though, was to never enter a nest without being invited first.

"Kitten, can I come into your nest? It looks so pretty already, doing such a good job."

He also knew to compliment a hybrid's nest, to earn their trust and make them relax. Instantly after he spoke, a shy smile appeared on Louis' face, and his cheeks flushed a gorgeous pink colour. Harry was so in love with him. He wanted to scoop Louis up and hug him tight, until Louis fell asleep, safe in his arms. Slowly, Louis nodded, and Harry tiptoed into the cozy mountain of clothes, not caring one bit that he was sitting down on his clothes, or that Louis managed to bring three-fourth of all of their clothes in one place which meant they both would go without enough clothes for the rest of the week. He couldn't find it in himself to care when Louis crawled closer to him, climbing into his lap and purring, sated. 

Harry didn't want to disturb him, so he let Louis continue the building of the nest, watching in awe as it came together like two pieces of a jigsaw.

Harry didn't even ask to help Louis; he knew that Louis would either disagree, or agree but the moment he was gone, Louis would change everything because hybrids were particular about their nests. As a consequence, he watched, following Louis' dainty hands as they folded clothes and placed them together. He knew that Louis had started with the bottom of the nest, because it was as if he were sitting on a cloud. Louis had piled so many clothes on top of the already fluffy rug that his body sunk into them. It was big enough for him to lie down. Harry had never seen a hybrid nest before, but he knew that Louis' was perfect. He kissed Louis' temple and nosed Louis' throat, humming when the delicious scent of soap and strawberry body mist filled his nostrils.

He smiled against Louis' skin when Louis sighed happily, his tail caressing Harry's naked chest, cat ears standing straight on top of his head and leaning slightly forward, sign that he was relaxed. 

At one point, Louis moved away from him to finish the rest of the nest and before Harry knew it, it had been two hours of staring at Louis and waiting for him to finish. In the meantime, he managed to fully wake up, to spot a few of his used clothes that were meant to be washed (but that Louis still took because they smelled properly of him and Harry knew that smells were important to hybrids insofar as their olfaction was way better than human beings'), to make cups of tea for both of them (but he ended up making Louis drink by holding a straw up to the hybrid's lips while he worked), and to gather his thoughts.

His pregnant hybrid husband was nesting. He was both happy and worried.

Once Louis was done using the clothes, Harry watched him stand up and disappear in the kitchen. When he came back, his arms were full of snacks, from fruity cereal bars to a whole pot of chocolate paste. He dropped them in a corner of the nest then disappeared once again, this time towards their bedroom.

When Louis came back with baby clothes, Harry couldn't help it. His eyes started to water.

"Lou," he said shakily, hands reaching out to grab Louis' waist as the hybrid put the baby clothes next to the snacks, stacking them perfectly. Harry noticed the little beanies, the onesies as well as the tiny socks. Louis even thought of bringing a few diapers and that was the last straw, somehow. Tears sprung from Harry's eyes, teardrops sliding down his cheeks and getting lost in the dip of his collarbones.

"Haz? What's wrong?" Louis asked, voice as soft as candy floss. He cupped Harry's jaw with his hands, bringing them closer to each other, and Harry buried his face in Louis' chest, letting himself be cuddled by Louis' warm body. At last, his tears were no more and once he was sure he wouldn't be overwhelmed anymore by the sight of his pregnant husband doing his nest to welcome their babies, did he tilt his head back to look up into Louis' eyes. There he found love and kindness, and he closed his eyes, leaning one of his cheeks against Louis' palm, cheekbones gradually warming up as Louis rubbed his thumbs over them.

Then, Louis' lips were on his own. They were soft like rose petals, wet like shiny gloss and his tongue felt like velvet as it explored the inside of Harry's mouth with such confidence that it was obvious it wasn't the first time they had kissed. Harry circled Louis' waist with his arms and sighed in the kiss.

"You are nesting," was all he said, breathe caressing Louis' lips as he spoke against them.

"I just have this urge to nest," he admitted, voice barely above a whisper.

"Hey," Harry put two fingers underneath Louis' chin to make him look up into his eyes. "None of that. You did what's best for our babies, you are incredible. I admire you so, so much."

Louis' frown soothed out into a blinding smile.

"I don't know when the babies are coming exactly."

Harry nodded. That was fine. He could work with this. Their doula had told them that Louis was due for the end of the week and that it was unlikely he would go into labour earlier.

Harry should call her. Ask whether he should take Louis to the hospital right away or not. Maybe he was being too paranoid, and perhaps the growing lump in his throat was a direct sign of his own melodrama scenarios that played in his mind again, and again, and again. But she was most probably still asleep. The sun was still down, the outside of the cottage was still bathing in darkness. The fire and the dimmed lamps in the four corners of the room were the only source of light and they were just enough to allow Harry to see farther than his nose. They were enough for him to caress with his eyes the details that made Louis' face. God, he was so gorgeous. A beautiful bouquet of refinement, purity, innocence and strength.

 _The curve of your lips rewrite history,_ had written Oscar Wilde. Often, Harry felt as if he were Angel Clare watching from far away as Tess Durbeyfield milked her cows, his face love-struck, frozen in awe, wondering how somebody so ethereal was breathing the same fresh air as him. Harry knew himself to be as devoted to Louis as Doña Sol was to Hernani, a love so pure it burnt bright and golden and remained until death.

"Let's sleep?" Louis asked, giggling when Harry leaned and kissed all over his collarbones. He hummed.

"Yeah, let's sleep."

He made to stand up, but a hand on his chest held him back. Louis was frowning at him, but not because he was upset, but because he wanted something but wasn't sure if it was a great idea to voice it. Harry knew that look.

"Wanna sleep here?"

He knew he asked the right thing when he was rewarded with a soft kiss.

.✫*ﾟ

Soft fingers caressed his cheeks, then when they were gone the cool air came, contrasting with the previous warmness he had felt. He blinked his eyes open, coming face to face with Louis' thighs as Louis was sitting on his heels next to his head. Under his cheek there was a thick red sweater, and he was surprised that his lower back didn't hurt even after sleeping on the floor, on a pile of clothes.

Nests were magical beds, he concluded. He sighed happily and stretched, feeling his toes reach the edge of the nest. Next to him, Louis moved and that was when the distinctive smell of dawn-cooked pancakes waltzed up his nostrils and made him sit up.

Louis chuckled. "You were fast asleep, so I decided to make pancakes. Here you go, love."

Louis handed him a plate. On it was stacked five perfectly round, brilliantly golden pancakes, the whole drenched in maple sirup with a chunk of salted butter beginning to melt at the very top, looking very much like the cherry on top of a cake. There were fresh berries thrown haphazardly around. Louis' pancakes were the best ones Harry had ever tasted in his life, and he leaned down to kiss the tip of Louis' nose, carefully keeping his mouth closed so as to not breathe into Louis' face lest his sleep-stale breath would end up reaching Louis.

Usually, he brushed his teeth first thing in the morning, but he reckon he could make an exception. Moreover, he was hungry.

He chewed happily, both of them eating in silence. A quick look at the grandfather clock had him known it was already fifteen minutes past noon. He raised an eyebrow at Louis.

"Breakfast for lunch is the best thing ever, c'mon," Louis said teasingly, stuffing his mouth with shiny pancakes and batting his eyelashes at Harry, as if Harry were about to disagree.

"Oh, of course," Harry replied with a posh accent, Louis biting down on his lips to keep a laugh from spilling out. "Breakfast is perfect for lunch, though I'm afraid I'm quite craving a drink. Would Sir be generous enough as to hand over the mouth-watering smoothie I can see hiding behind your back?"

Louis doubled over laughing. "That was a surprise! How did you even see it?" Louis turned around and grabbed the tall glass, full to the brim with a brown liquid. Harry took it and drank from it, barely flinching as the sour taste of berries, menthol and basil assaulted his taste buds.

"I still don't know how you do it. I tried it, again, and spat it right back in the sink. Awful, awful stuff."

Louis grabbed his own glass and took a sip of the sugar-free orange juice. He used a spoon to stir it, because Harry knew Louis always put honey in his juices and it tended to get stuck at the bottom of the glass. Harry watched him, as he ate, and drank, and sometimes rubbed a hand down his prominent belly. He was wearing one of Harry's shirts, enormous on his tiny figure. Socks covered his little feet and his fringe rested over his forehead, random strands falling into his eyes.

"You're staring," Louis said matter-of-factly, voice light, the corner of his mouth tilting up in a knowing smirk.

Harry shrugged with a lopsided smile. "Can't really help myself."

After breakfast, Harry went to brush his teeth while Louis jumped in the shower. He joined him, helping Louis clean up as there were areas Louis couldn't reach because of his pregnant belly. Harry dropped to his knees and rubbed foamy soap up and down Louis' perfectly carved legs, feeling every single twitch of muscles and wetting his lips with his tongue when he rubbed the back of Louis' knees, making Louis moan. Harry knew this was a sensitive area and he pressed his thumbs there, giving him a massage, moving on to Louis' slightly swollen ankles and giving them as much love as possible.

"Oh, that's so good Haz. Thank you."

Louis slid his fingers in Harry's wet curls, rubbing his scalp. Harry kept massaging Louis' ankles until they were significantly less swollen. Then, he saw Louis reach out for something before presenting Harry what he just grabbed, which happened to be his razor.

"Could you help me shave too, please?"

Harry tried to ignore the excitement building up in his belly like molten lava. He loved how much Louis trusted him, enough to allow him to use such a sharp tool on his legs. He also knew that, once he was done, Louis' shaved legs would be as smooth as butter as he let his hands trace the shape of them.

For as long as Harry had known him, Louis had always shaved. He had confessed to Harry late at night that he liked the feeling, when they were on their fifth date under the stars. Harry had instantly supported Louis, reassuring him that he didn't care, that Louis should do whatever he wanted. Harry had also told him, how much it turned him on. At the end of their date, when the streets were empty and the silence was disturbed only by their steady breathing, they went back to Harry's, and they didn't sleep until dawn broke into the horizon, too busy exploring each other's body, too addict to the feeling of Harry's digits writing cursives against the smooth skin of Louis' legs.

Wordlessly, Harry took the razor, kissing the palm of Louis' hand as he did so. 

He poured more soap in his hands, rubbing them up and down on Louis' tan legs until his skin couldn't be seen anymore under the thick layer of white foam. Then, delicately, as if he were dealing with glass, he pressed the razor down and licked up a strip, the foam bunching up and disappearing down in the drain. Now, Louis' skin could be seen, hairless and smooth. Harry continued until all the foam was gone.

He let the razor fall in a corner, then, with wonder, he leaned down to drop butterfly-soft kisses all over Louis' thighs. 

"You're so beautiful," Harry whispered, kissing up, and up, until he was face to face with Louis' belly. There, he cradled Louis' hips then proceeded to kiss him all over, affection flowing through his veins like blood, love and wonder overwhelming him as he realized his _babies_ were in there, days away from arriving in their world.

Louis turned off the shower head then grabbed Harry's face, making him stand up. As Louis was way shorter than him, he had to go on his tiptoes to kiss him, and Harry kissed him back eagerly.

"Want you, want you so much," Louis breathed hotly in Harry's mouth, pushing his naked body against his, knowing how turned on Harry was already.

In the end, it took them thirty minutes to get out of the shower.

.✫*ﾟ

Harry had been cutting more woods and making sure the blizzard wouldn't damage anything, his face bright red as the cold bit at him. The weather was horrendous now, clouds much closer than they were a few hours ago, and the wind having picked up. The snow storm should hit anytime now. With enough woods to last them three days, Harry went back inside, walking straight to the fireplace and dropping the woods on the floor, stacking them up as neatly as possible.

It was then that he heard a chocked sound, resembling a lot like somebody was sobbing, but couldn't properly breathe all the while.

Instantly, Harry followed the sound, finding Louis on the floor, radio clutched to his chest, heavy tears dampening his hoodie. 

Harry dropped to his knees, right next to Louis. "Hey, baby, relax. I'm here, what's wrong?"

The radio was playing a pop song. Gently, Harry took it from Louis, then wrapped his arm around the hybrid, rubbing the spot where his cat ears met his scalp, knowing how much it relaxed Louis. There were tears still streaming down his rosy cheeks, which Harry wiped with his hands, tilting Louis' face towards his own, looking straight at him in the eye.

"What's happening."

Another wave of tears arrived and Louis buried his face in the crook of Harry's neck, breathing in his scent, trying to calm down.

"The roads," Louis finally croaked out, his tail moving quickly, a clear sign of distress. Harry was worried, because Louis seemed at the edge of a panic attack. "The roads to the hospital, they are- they're blocked. Harry, they're blocked. What are we going to do? It's my fault, I should have seen it coming, I should've, I'm scared, I'm so scared, Hallie isn't here... Harry, _Harry!_ "

The agony was so heavy in Louis' voice that it snapped Harry out of whatever trance he got himself into, having never seen Louis so panic-stricken in his life. He threw the radio on the counter and picked Louis up, swallowing down a groan because while Louis had always been as light as a feather, the added weight of a heavily pregnant belly did make the operation much more difficult. He laid Louis on the couch, brushing his sweaty fringe away from his forehead and sitting down right next to him.

"Harry, I'm so sorry. You have to call Hallie, please, she must come."

He nodded before Louis was even done talking, fishing his phone out of his jeans' pocket and calling their doula, Hallie. She answered after the third ring with a simple 'hello, Harry, how can I help you?' and Harry... he was frozen in place, unable to form any coherent thoughts, because he saw right before his eyes as Louis' face twisted into obvious pain.

It was as if somebody had thrown a bucket of ice cold water over him.

"Hallie," Louis panted in the phone, grip so tight around the device that his fingers were white due to blood loss. "Hallie, I'm so sorry, I don't know how it happened, I don't get it but I think... I think my water broke yesterday, but I thought it was just urine, because it looked a lot like it, and there wasn't much but... but now I can feel light contractions going through my body, I mean I think they're contractions, but all I know is that I will go into labour soon and you're not here, Hallie, you need to come, _please._ "

 _Water broke. Yesterday. Contractions._ All those words that Harry knew about were flying all around his brain, and yet as Louis kept talking to Hallie, they barely made sense at all.

If Louis was going into labour, Hallie should be here. They agreed that they wanted to give birth at home, but Harry had been adamant on wanting a professional with them from start to finish. Except their doula lived forty minutes away from them. But Louis had said that his water broke yesterday, which meant _at least_ fourteen hours ago. He racked his brain to remember what that meant, and with horror, he realized that Louis was already well into labour.

He knew that Louis do not suffer from premature rupture, but it just so happened his body was ready three days before he was supposed to give birth. _Birth is unpredictable,_ Hallie had said, _we think it will most likely happen on Saturday, but it can happen two weeks before. The babies are already perfectly formed._ Harry closed his eyes, trying to recall everything he had read about birth. Louis' cervix must have began dilating.

 _How the fuck did I not see it,_ he thought with despair. He looked at Louis, who had tears stuck into his eyes and a protective hand on top of his belly. Harry placed his own there, and Louis enlaced their fingers together.

"Hallie can't make it, the roads are fucking blocked," Louis spat, anger breaking through the fear and, with one last goodbye, he gave the phone back to Harry.

"Harry, listen to me," Hallie said, except that her voice could barely be heard, cracking every once in a while. He wished his senses were as amazing as Louis' since it was almost impossible to hear a single thing. "You will have to deliver the babies yourself. I know it sounds scary, but it will be easier since Louis is a hybrid. Hybrids deal with pregnancy even better than human beings because they're part feline and they are more in tune with their own bodies. Louis is starting to feel light contractions, they are pretty spaced out, but soon it won't be the case anymore and you will need to keep track of how long the contractions last and how much apart they are from one another. The closer Louis gets to delivery, the stronger and closer the contractions are.

Technically, Louis started labour yesterday when his water broke. He already had contractions, but they were so light he didn't think much of them. I suspect that, because he has been in labour for so long, the process will be quick and he will experience severe contractions in the upcoming hours, maybe in just an hour. Harry, I need you to remove Louis' pants and check whether his cervix his infected or not."

Harry frowned but stood up and made a sign for Louis to remove his sweatpants. "Infected? Why would it be infected?"

"Because his water broke yesterday and I doubt Louis thought of using a pad to protect his cervix. I truly hope that's not the case, I can't come because the blizzard has hit us already and will hit you really soon."

Once Louis was naked from the waist down, Harry kneeled between his legs, gently touching Louis' thigh.

"Babe, I just need to check your cervix, alright?"

Louis only nodded, eyebrows furrowed. Louis' cervix was located slightly above his rim. Harry glanced down and his eyes widened because it had always been closed, blending in with his skin. But now, it was open, wide enough for all of his fingers to fit in comfortably. He swallowed, trying to keep both feet on earth. He was about to deliver their babies. This was not a time to panic. He was glad that nothing seemed infected. The area was wet and he could see a tiny amount of blood, smudged by the sweatpants, but there was no redness and no swell.

"I don't think it is infected, the cervix is not swollen, nor red, though I can see a bit of blood."

"God bless," he could picture Hallie relaxing. "The blood is called bloody show. That's natural. I'm not going to explain it to you, it will take too much time. Is his cervix very dilated?"

He was about to answer when Louis shrieked, his whole body jumping, his eyes closing tight. Harry knew a particularly painful contraction just hit him. 

"His cervix is very dilated, maybe eight centimetres. I can see it relax and tense as the contractions hit Louis. He just went through a particularly painful one, and from the look of it it's still going on."

"Okay. Harry, when the next contraction hits, I want you to count. Tell Louis to give you some signs. If the contractions only last thirty seconds and are five minutes apart, that means Louis is in true labor and once his cervix is fully dilated, one of the babies will move further down the birth canal towards the entrance and Louis will have to push. He will feel a strong need to push, he must do what his body tells him to do. In the meantime, maybe get him to walk, or change him into various positions to help with the pain."

The connection was so bad that at the end, Hallie could barely be heard. But Harry had mentally written everything down and although he was scared out of his wits, he wanted first and foremost to have his babies in his arms, safe and sound.

"Thank you, Hallie. I'll call you if I need anything else."

It was unlikely, because Hallie didn't answer and when he looked at the screen, the call had been disconnected. He threw the device on the floor then took Louis' face in his hands, gazing down at him with wet eyes.

"We can do it, alright?"

Harry tried to put in his words as much convictions as possible, and Louis put his own hands over Harry's, nodding.

"Yes, we can. Gosh, these motherfucking contractions hurt like a bitch."

They both laughed, but Louis' voice was low, as if he were too tired. Harry didn't let this get to him.

"Let's walk around for a bit, yeah? It will help with the pain hopefully."

Louis was breathing hard, flinching every once in a while whenever a contraction hit. Harry counted forty seconds per contractions, every seven minutes. He helped Louis crouch, and when that position became uncomfortable he let Louis grab the edge of the living room table and bend, bare ass pushing out. He groaned as another contraction hit and Harry instantly tried to make him feel better by rubbing his back.

"Deep breathe," Harry murmured in Louis' ear. A single stray tear escaped Louis' eye and with his thumb, Harry caught it before it reached Louis' lips.

"You can do it," he said, and when Louis looked up, there was fear twirling in his blue irises but there was something else, a fire that shot adrenaline through Harry's body. It made him feel oddly calm although he was painfully aware of the severity of the situation.

 _Yeah,_ he thought, _we can do this._

.✫*ﾟ

The winter growled loud and mean outside. The wind made the winking tree branches slap against the window upstairs, and the noise echoed all around the house, barely camouflaged by the drops of iced water hitting the ground. The weather was furious, unforgiving, the snow storm making its presence known through the howls that flowed in the air. Harry threw some woods in the fireplace, watching as the flame grew and the smell became potent enough to be akin to a forest fire.

"Harry," Louis croaked out and instantly, Harry stood up and walked over to Louis who was kneeling on a pillow, his upper body resting on the seat of a chair, his sensitive chest protested from the harsh wood by another, fluffier pillow. "I'm so hot, I can't."

"It's okay, love, it's okay. I'm here," Harry kissed Louis' sweaty temple before going to the kitchen to grab a cool compress. He gently held it against Louis' forehead, pleased by the content little sighs that left Louis' blood-coloured lips.

"Feels good," Louis mumbled, face scrunching up in pain. Harry mentally counted and stopped when Louis gave him a thumbs up. Thirty seconds.

The next contraction hit five minutes and thirty-three seconds later.

"Fuck, _fuck,_ " Louis whined, his eyes filled with tears. He held himself by his arms and breathed loud and clear despite the chaos outside. "They're coming, Harry, they're coming."

Harry nodded and kneeled behind Louis, his eyes falling on Louis' cervix, positive that it was now at least ten centimetres dilated.

"Do you need to move, love?"

Louis shook his head, beads of sweat falling off his skin. "No, but I need to push."

"Do what feels right, in whatever position you want."

Louis didn't answer; instead, he spread his legs wider and curved his back, letting a shout out as his lower belly contracted. He bore down uncontrollably, and Harry saw the exact moment something — _someone_ — appeared at the entrance of the hole. It was a mix of gooey liquid, blood and thin brown hair. Tears spilled out of Harry's eyes and rolled down his cheeks, because Louis was finally crowning and Harry didn't even have to do anything besides getting ready to grab the baby as it came out. Louis was handling it perfectly, pushing along the contractions, using his position to help him. Harry noticed the pattern Louis was following; push, wait ten seconds, push. Breathe.

The whole head of his first child popped out and Harry supported its head with one hand. It was so tiny, so delicate. It naturally rotated its body to one side and with the next push, one of its shoulders appeared, then the other one. Louis was panting, but he kept going on and as the baby slid out, made easier thanks to the shiny, greasy white substance covering its body, Harry grabbed it and pulled it upward. Had Louis been on his back, he would have put the baby on Louis' milk-filled breasts, but instead he cuddled it against his own naked chest. He had taken his shirt off earlier, knowing how important skin-to-skin contact was.

Harry gazed down in wonder at the newborn baby, watching as its bluish gray skin faded into pink the moment it opened its mouth to cry. Harry barely managed to bite back a sob as he took in the baby's small cat ears. It was beautiful. Harry knee-walked around Louis so that he could show the baby to him, and he saw the exact moment Louis' eyes landed on it, because his eyes lit up with love and relief.

"It's a boy," he breathed out, and Harry looked down to check and, indeed, they were blessed with their very own baby boy. They stared at each other, an understanding settling over them. They didn't need to converse, or debate.

"Angel," they announced together, and Louis leaned down to kiss Angel's head, his nose touching one of Angel's wet cat ears.

"He's fine. Please, can you put him in our nest? Our second baby is coming, I can feel pressure on my lower belly."

Before going away, Harry cut the umbilical cord then hurried to the nest. He had already laid warm blankets and he laid Angel down, using a little cloth to wipe the mucus that was under his nose. He had made sure the whole house was warm enough as newborns tended to get cold easily. Angel yawned and moved, kicking his dainty small feet up.

"Oh, Angel, my angel," Harry sighed, an elated smile overtaking his features. He made sure Angel was safe in the middle of the nest before going back to Louis who was moaning in pain.

They repeated the process, but this time Harry was much more worried because Louis was weak. He was shaking and kept wincing whenever a contraction hit him and whenever he tried to push.

"Louis, how are you feeling?"

Harry was out of his league, but he tried to sound controlled to not make Louis panic. He grabbed the closest cool cloth and dabbed it against Louis' flushed face.

"Tired," Louis finally managed to say. " _Haz."_

The moment Harry remained his position behind Louis, another head was seen and he copied the exact same gestures that he used with Angel. Since Louis' cervix was completely dilated and loose from Angel, their second baby arrived much quicker and he cuddled it to his chest, one hand under its head, the other under its bum. He felt a little tuft of hair just above the baby's ass which was undoubtedly its tail.

"Another boy," Harry announced and he brought the newborn next to Louis' head which was laying on the chair. His eyes kept dropping and Harry reached out, ignoring how dirty his hand was, to brush Louis' hair away from his eyes. Harry looked at him in wonder and love, pressing kisses into Louis' cheek and glowing as he managed to make a little smile appear on Louis' face.

"Jaymes," Louis said out loud, voice breaking towards the end.

"Hi, Jaymes, Welcome to the world," Harry told the crying baby, who was moving his limbs as much as he could. Harry, with more confidence, cut the umbilical cord and laid him next to his brother but didn't linger; he had to help Louis through another hard process, and it was the coming out of the placentas.

"I'm so worn out," Louis admitted, letting Harry cuddle him. "I want to lie down, please."

Harry guided Louis on his back, not far away from their nest, and he placed a cloth underneath Louis' ass. While they waited for the placenta to arrive, Harry started massaging Louis' feet, calves and thighs, then his belly. Louis hissed under the pain and tried to slap Harry's hand away, but he persisted because he knew it would help to both speed up the arriving of the placentas and to avoid too much blood from spilling out.

All the while, Louis kept his eyes focused on Angel and Jaymes, his expression fond. 

Harry loved him. He loved Louis with his entire being, and he knew this love was already extending to Angel and Jaymes, growing by each second, overwhelming him in the best way.

He felt something warm and sticky splash against his hands and torso, and when he focused back on Louis' cervix, he paled upon seeing the pool of blood that was now on the blanket, drops sliding down Louis' crack, over his rim and falling straight into the fabric.

"Babe, placentas."

Louis answered with a grimace. Harry went back to massaging Louis' stretched belly, being careful but also firm enough to make it efficient. There wasn't too much blood, but it was still nerve-wracking to smell the metallic scent of the dark red liquid.

"I'm sleeping for the next thirty years once this is over," Louis groaned, his hand shooting out to grab the edge of the couch in a tight grip, and he pushed. He did so for five more minutes before, finally, two balls of blood-heavy tissues fell into Harry's hands. He carefully laid them in a bowl. They agreed to bury them in their garden once the blizzard was over. Louis didn't feel like dealing with them the way his mother did, who actually ate her whole placenta, raw.

Tenderly, Harry cleaned Louis' thighs and the area around his cervix, making sure to never touch it as it would be painful. After a few minutes, Louis crawled towards Angel and Jaymes to feed them. He sat up, putting most of his weight on his lower back. He leaned against one of the couches which was on one side of the nest. Louis put around his chest the breastfeeding pillow then grabbed Angel, holding his shoulders and body with his arm, his hand supporting his head that was at breast level. If Harry remembered correctly, it was a football hold. Instantly, Angel latched on the nipple in front of his mouth, sucking eagerly.

Louis did the same with Jaymes and both newborns feasted, curling their toes happily. Harry grabbed his phone, not caring the slightest about the dried blood all over his hands, and snapped a picture.

He fed Louis the smoothie he made earlier, full of vitamins, that he knew Louis would usually hate but was, at the moment, grateful for. Once he had cleaned himself, he joined Louis and their children in the nest, nuzzling Louis' neck and watching him breastfed Angel and Jaymes. The air was as sweet as honey and they were cocooned in a bubble that could never be broken. Harry trailed kissed all over Louis' shoulder and cheek, letting his finger caress Jaymes' chubby leg.

"I love you," he told Louis, so admiring of his husband's strength. At that moment, nothing could come between them, nothing could top the sight of the love of his life feeding their miracles. There was an ethereal quality to the soft orangish glow cast by the crackling fire. The cacophony outside was nonexistent at that moment.

The winter growled loud and mean outside, but all Harry felt was peace.


End file.
